Chapter 2 is up! Thanks for the reviews. Let me know what you think of this one!

It had rained for most of the night, and when morning finally came, and rays of light touched the awakening prairie, most of the outlaws of Cavendish' gang had moved their sleeping cots under their horses. Nobody had dared to wake Butch and tell him it was raining. Only Frank had been brave enough to throw a dusty saddle blanket over their ailing leader, keeping him somewhat dry during the night.

While the gang was packing to get ready to hit the saddle and leave, Ray kneeled down next to Butch to get a better look at him. "Ah don't think he feels any better, boys" he said. "He gonna die?" asked Jesus. Ray shrugged and shook his head "how the hell should ah know?" he reached out to shake Butch' arm lightly and expected to get a knife against his throat, but instead Butch opened his eyes with great difficulty and gave such a pitiful moan it made Ray's stomach turn in worry. "Butch, we gotta get doing now. Ye good to ride?" he asked softly. Butch didn't reply, but after a few moments of silence he started pulling himself in a sitting position slowly. "sure ah ahm" he grumbled and rubbed his eyes, the world spinning before him. "git me some water"

After a few sips of warm water from a flask belonging to Barret, the gang leader took another deep breath and looked around, catching all the looks his gang members gave him. "what ye all lookin' at?" he said, his voice gruff. "ye don't look so well, Butch" Skinny answered. Had he been well enough, Butch would have rolled his eyes, but he decided not to waste any precious energy now. "ah know I don't, Skinny. But that won't stop ye from riding, won't it? Nor will it stop me. Understood? Did ah make myself clear to ya'll?" the gang leader said and got to his feet shakenly.

No one dared saying anything during the difficult ride. They could see Butch' condition worsening throughout the day, as he slumped over his horse, panting heavily. The dark mare seemed to sense her master's frailty and she took extra care to avoid rocks and holes in the trail, to make it easier for him to cling on to her manes. Ray occasionally handed his leader a flask of water, knowing that fluids were important. And Butch seemed too sick to be stubborn about it this time. His gut was on fire, yet the rest of his body felt frozen, and all the while he was sweating in places he didn't even knew he had. This couldn't go on like this. He needed to rest and he needed it badly.

"frank" he said, waiting for the young man to guide his horse alongside Butch' "where was them ranch ye were talking about earlier? Around here somewhere?" The young man smiled and nodded. "aint too far now, Butch. Just a little more down this creek" he answered. Butch sighed and looked up at the dirt road ahead of them, feeling the sun burn through his hat, or maybe it was his spiking fever, after all it was autumn, and the days were getting cold "we'll stop there.. I.. I'm tuckered out. Take Skinny with ye and make sure them ranchers are informed about our visit. And don't make any unnecessary ruckus goddammit! I don't want the place to be covered in blood when I get there" he said. The two rode off on breakneck speed, knowing it was urgent that Butch took some rest. He was vaguely aware of Ray's hand on his arm, holding him up on his horse in fear of him sliding off. "Good decision" the older man said. Butch frowned, the sunlight hurting his sore eyes. "Only one left now, Ray. Ahm getting old" Both men chuckled lightly.

When they arrived the ranch was still standing to Butch' delight. Those two knuckleheads had managed to not burn it down in their effort to take it over. An elderly man sat on the front porch holding a shotgun, seemingly undisturbed that his house had just been taken over by criminals. He locked eyes with Butch when the sick man came up the stairs to the front door, holding his stomach in silent agony. "How ya doin' oldtimer?" the outlaw asked. the elderly man, tobacco juice dripping down his long grey beard as he chewed it, spit in front of Butch' boots. And with that, all had been said.

Inside he found two frightened women sitting on a couch while Skinny pointed a gun at them. One of the women, the younger one, looked up and whispered something in presumably her mother's ear. Butch Cavendish. They both recognized him. he knew that look anywhere. "Ladies.." he mumbled, passing them without anything else. He decided to collapse on the first bed he'd come across and closed the bedroom door behind him, locking himself away from the world.

The rest of the gang made themselves comfortable in the living room. The women were allowed to go about their business when Ray took over, like he did when Butch was away. And the two retreated to the kitchen instantly, where none of them would bother them. Especially the younger woman had received numerous looks and calls from a few gang members. "we have to find a way to contact the Eltons" her mother whispered frantically. Referring to their neighbours, another rancher family that lived 50 miles up the dirt road "they can go alert the sheriff in town"

"I don't think that's wise, mother. Besides they don't really mean us any harm. is unwell. They might just leave when he rested" the younger one said. "You're so naïve, Eleanor. I don't know who you're taking after, not me that's for sure. They will soon get bored, and then what? They won't stay idle like this for long. I won't sit here and watch my daughter get ravaged by that gang of mangy dogs!" her mother whispered, a little too loud than necessary.

"Hey! Old hag. Who are you calling a mangy dog, eh?!" One of the bandits growled from the livingroom. Eleanor tried to quiet her mother. "If they were here to ravage me and raid the place, they would have done so already. Mr. Cavendish is in my bedroom, I saw him close the door behind himself. I think maybe he's just awfully tired, maybe they just need a good night's sleep and in the morning they'll all be on their way. Please mother, you have to trust me on this for now" she said, her hands on her mother's narrow shoulders. The older woman slowly calmed down and nodded. "You're right. Father would have urged us to remain calm. He would have. No drastic decisions now, Mary, he would say to me. All that lives needs air and space. You remember he always said that, Eleanor?" the young woman smiled and nodded.

They had lost father three years ago to a disease that had been short lived. One day the rancher had started complaining about headaches, three days later they found him dead in his stables. Eleanor's grandfather had come to live with them to help the two women out on the ranch, but he was getting older too. And after two strokes, all he could do was sit out on the porch with his shotgun, guarding his daughter and granddaughter from ill wanting criminals. Eleanor was still wondering why grandpa hadn't fired one shot at the sight of the two outlaws that showed up a few hours ago.

Mother was asked, or rather forced, to cook for the entire gang that evening. She had bravely stood up to Ray when he asked her to cook them all a good meal, refusing at first hand so the outlaw was simply forced to pull out his gun and point it to her head. With pursed lips, as she always did when she was furious, she went about her pots and pans. Making a simple bean stew with enough bacon to satisfy the entire US cavalry. Eleanor wondered why no one was bothering to bring Mr. Cavendish any food, and since Ray seemed to be the one to talk to, she asked him.

"Oh he aint hungry now, Missy. Ye don't want to go in there" He chuckled at the young girl's question while spooning up his bowl of bean stew, gravy dripping down his chin. "He's not going to get any better if he doesn't eat or drink, mind you" she told him. Momentarily they all stopped eating, waiting for Ray's answer, and hoping he wouldn't decide to send one of them in there to feed Butch. Ray set his bowl aside and looked up at her. "That's right, so maybe you should go in there and see if he wants some of this shit" he said. She stared back defiantly and crossed her arms. "I hardly see the point in doing such a thing. I think he much rather sees one of you than a complete stranger" she said. The gang chuckled and so did Ray. "You leave him alone, you hear me? It's for your own good. Don't go in there" Ray said and picked up his bowl to finish his meal. The conversation was over and she had been warned.

When night fell, the gang settled down in the living room and soon after the only sound the women could hear was their loud snoring. They took shifts in guarding the front door, so the women wouldn't be able to go out and call for help. With not much else to do they decided to go to bed and wait for morning.